Road to recovery
by Zoetjetoch
Summary: January 6th, 2012. Is it really too late, or can Christian and Syed pick up the pieces of their relationship, and find a way to start again? They have a lot of reaching out to do, and not just to each other. Multi-chapter!
1. Endings and beginnings

_**This story was born out of a promise I made to a bunch of lovely Chryedians, on a memorable night in January...  
>Crazysusan, Starfish, Karen8, Ditzy Lady, Disneynut, Meg_icy, kqv... this one is for you.<br>Hope you enjoy xxx**_

**CHAPTER 1 - Endings and beginnings**

~ **Syed** ~

I watch her go. She holds her head high, defiantly, and walks off. And all I feel is an overwhelming sense of relief. No regret, no shame, no guilt, just …. relief. I can tell she expects me to follow her. But I can't. I won't. I've made up my mind. I'm divorcing her.

She was never my wife. I was never her husband. Not really. Not in the way it matters. Not in my heart. My heart was always Christian's. And always will be. From the moment she stepped back into our lives, I didn't stop telling her that. But she didn't hear me. And for a long time it didn't even occur to me that she didn't _want_ to hear. In my desperate attempts to be a worthy father, to make up for past mistakes, for missing out on the first year of my little girl's life... I tried too hard with Amira ... to be kind, to be understanding, to be her friend. I was _so_ busy trying that I didn't see the effect it had on the person I love the most. Without even knowing, I gave _her_ exactly what she wanted...  
>But now, finally, I can see what I should have seen weeks ago. She uses Yasmin as some sort of bargaining tool. A trump card. To hang on to me. To keep me tied to her. I still don't understand why she would want that though. Even if a divorce brings shame on her, how can she possibly think that being married to a man who can never love her back is a better option? Surely she deserves better? Or is this her way of trying to get some kind of revenge... on me? On Christian...? It makes no sense.<p>

Whatever it was, whatever her reasons, I didn't see it. Didn't _want_ to see it. Riddled with guilt over what I did to her in the past, I chose to be blind.  
>Christian saw it. Of course he did. But I didn't listen. Then he left – thinking of it still makes me wince - <em>Christian<em> _left_, and Yasmin was all I had. Like a drowning man, I clung to her. Made _her_ the most important thing in my life. Amira latched onto that, onto me. With Christian gone, I felt paralysed. I lost the will and the energy to fight her. So I let her take over, rule my life again, take my decisions for me. What I didn't realize was that, feeding into her delusions like that, I made it all so much worse.

But it's enough now! I choose _me_ again. My _own_ life. My _own_ happiness. _Myself_.  
>I love my little girl with all my heart, and I'll fight like a lion to be part of her life, to be the dad she deserves. But no matter how much I love my daughter, I can't give up who I am. I won't. Whatever happens next, <em>this<em> is right. It _feels_ right. This is what I need to do. What I should have done ages ago. For me. For Yasmin. For all of us. And...though I know it's too late... for Christian too. If nothing else, I owe him _that_... at least.

I sense his movement beside me. It's never been different. Whenever he comes within 5 feet of me, all my senses awaken. Every nerve stands to attention. My heart starts to beat faster, and all I can hear, see, feel, smell, taste is him... I don't move. I deliberately don't turn my head to look at him. I just let his closeness overwhelm me. I want this feeling never to go away. But it's too late. I left it _too late_. My breath hitches with the loss I feel. I want to cry and scream and beg him to look at me, and _see_ me again. _Believe _me. But I just stand there, dumbstruck and defeated. I don't know what I can do to make it right again.

And then I feel it. I feel _him_. His hand gently, tentatively takes hold of mine. Before it even registers in my consciousness, my fingers intuitively curl around his, and it's like coming home. But I'm too scared to believe this is real. I'm sure it's my mind playing tricks with me. But the warmth of his touch is there, and the electrical current running through my veins isn't lying. My eyes instinctively drop down to check if my senses aren't betraying me. They're not. He's holding my hand, and my heart flutters nervously. Dare I look up?

When I finally do, my eyes meet his, and in them I see all I need to know. He still loves me. Not that I doubted that. Not really. Even though he said it wasn't enough, and even after everything that's happened lately, all the anger, the hurt, the lashing out, the sleepless nights, the weeks of agonizing silence between us, I never, ever, stopped believing in his love for me.  
>But now I can <em>see<em> it again. Gone is that empty blank stare he'd reserved for me lately, that look of indifference that killed me inside a little bit more each time I saw it. Instead, his eyes are shining with that so familiar loving glow. He doesn't waver from my stare. He still loves me. He still cares. I can _see_ it.  
>And maybe... maybe it <em>is <em>enough.

"Can I ... come _home _now?" the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. I don't want to sound as if I'm begging. But the truth is, I am. I'm desperate to go home with him again. To start again.  
>His voice is barely a whisper, but his answer doesn't leave any room for doubt "Please do" he says.<p>

And something gives way inside me. I feel dizzy suddenly, and my knees buckle. Every muscle that I've kept tensed, every feeling I've kept in check through all this agony, finally relaxes, and I collapse my head against his chest. Something between a sob and a sigh of relief escapes my lips.  
>He says nothing. He does nothing. He just holds my hand. Only a slight tremor in his chest, a soft trembling in his skin betray his emotions. If I didn't know him so well, I might not even have noticed.<br>But I _do_ know him, and I know what it means, what he says without words. He has missed me. He has missed me as much as I have missed him. And as I realize that, all the pain, all the hurt, all the angry words we threw at each other... none of these things matter anymore... all of them disappear in that instant. I feel, almost literally, how a heavy burden lifts from my shoulders, and from my heart. I'm not naive. I know things between us aren't magically solved now, by a simple handhold and a few whispered words. They're not. And they may not be for a long while yet. We're going to have to work at it. Work hard. But we'll get through it. I know we will.

I don't know how long we stand there, leaning into each other, in the gentlest, carefullest of hugs. My head against his shoulder, my hand safely enfolded in his, I breathe in his scent again, and rediscover the warmth of his nearness. This is the only place I want to be. I feel him sighing softly, and I know it's exactly the same for him.

0+0+0+0

"Oh great! Here we go again!"  
>A loud, harsh woman's voice interrupts the moment.<br>I cringe and start to pull back, but Christian doesn't let go, squeezing my hand firmly in his.  
>"Roxy..." he sounds exasperated "Just... stay out of it..."<br>But she's not listening.  
>"I can't believe you! You're going to fall for this again, aren't you, Christian? Have you lost your mind?"<br>"Rox..."  
>"You're unbelievable! Can't you see what he's doing? You're so gullible, Christian! He's going to make all the right noises, say all the right things, you're going to have lots of great sex... and you're going to lap it <em>all<em> up... But when push comes to shove, he's going to break your heart! Again! Before you know it, he's going to want to make mummy happy and run back to his princess wife. And _I'_m going to be the one picking up the pieces again... Oh, for crying out loud, Christian... haven't you learnt anything by now?"

I feel a deep blush crawling up my face, as I listen to her rant about me. I don't want to be here. I don't want to hear this. Again I try to pull back, but Christian holds on. I stare at my feet intently, willing the earth underneath them to open up and swallow me in.

"Stay out of it, Roxy" he says again. I recognize his tone of voice. He's struggling to stay calm, and his frustration is audible in every word he speaks. "You don't understand!"  
>"You bet I don't <em>understand<em>!" she snaps "and I never will... I don't even _want_ to...!"  
>"It's simple though," he says. Still holding my hand, his other reaches out to touch my face, and he lifts my chin up, forcing me to look at him.<br>His eyes lock with mine. "I love him" he says. "It's as simple as that." And though talking to Roxy, he doesn't look away from me ."I love him." His thumb softly caresses my cheek "And he may break my heart a thousand times, he's also the _only_ one, the only one _ever_, who makes it whole. I'll always come back to him. Always. No matter what..."

She snorts.  
>"Oh well... do what you like then...but don't come running back to me when he lets you down again..." She starts to turn to walk away.<br>"Don't make me choose, Rox..!" he says, and it gives her momentary pause "I don't _want_ to choose, but..."  
>"Don't, Christian" I implore him. "Don't say things you'll regret!"<br>He doesn't listen "If I have to choose, Roxy... I'm sorry... "  
>I pull at his hand to stop him. "Don't..!"<br>"I'll _always_ choose him" he says it anyway.  
>I see Roxy's face cloud over, and I know that however badly she already thought of me, this has only made it a hundred times worse.<br>She swallows hard "Suit yourself then" she says with a shrug.

And for the second time tonight I watch as one of the women in our lives squares her shoulders and walks away. But this time I know I can't stand by and let it happen.  
>"Roxy...Don't go. He doesn't mean it... You <em>know<em> he doesn't!" I call after her. But she doesn't look back.  
>I turn to him "Christian, please... " I urge him "Please...!"<p>

But he just shakes his head. "I _do_ mean it" he says quietly, "Just... let her..." He squeezes my hand tighter in his, and smiles at me bravely. Though he tries to hide it, I can tell that this confrontation with Roxy has knocked him for six.  
>"Let her go." he says again. There's a finality in his words, and it feels like he's talking more to himself than he is to me. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly. "Let's go home, Sy" he whispers "Let's concentrate on <em>us<em> now."

He's right. This isn't about Roxy, it's not even about Amira. This is about _us_. And about how we rebuild our relationship. I nod silently, and with our hands firmly entwined, we restart our journey. Together.


	2. Things we say and do

_A/N Thank you to everyone for r&r'ing chapter 1, which has encouraged me to continue this story, even though it's something that happened on/off our screens a while ago. R/L issues have prevented me from posting this sooner._

_So the boys are taking their first steps back to reconciliation. But things are still ...fragile... very very fragile. There's a lot that needs to be addressed. This chapter is only the beginning of their road to recovery..._  
><em>So be warned ... there's a fair bit of angst to come (and yes, in this chapter too).<em>

_So get the hankies out... and enjoy ;p_

_0+0+0+0+0_

**CHAPTER 2 - Things we say and do**

**~ Christian ~ **

I'm still holding on tightly to his hand as I softly close the door of our flat behind us.  
><em>Our<em> flat.  
><em>Us<em>.  
>These two words sing in my head and I can't stop myself from smiling. Albeit a little tentative. I'm still feeling quite shivery. A myriad of thoughts is going through my head. Part of me is ecstatic. The other part of me... doesn't know. Where are we going from here? The only certainty I have, the one that I cling onto, is that we're going to do it together.<br>_Together_.  
>Another of those words. I smile for real now.<p>

I finally turn to face him, and find those beautiful brown eyes looking at me intently. With a start I realize again that they hold no secrets for me. They never have. I always only had to look at him to know what he was thinking and feeling. Always. Except... except these last few months... when I just didn't see.  
>If it wasn't so sad, it would actually be funny. There I was, all self-righteous and holier-than-thou, blaming him for not opening his eyes to reality, and I didn't see it myself. The truth, and I see that now, is that he never let me down. Not really. Yes, he lied. Yes, he lashed out and said some awful things. But so did I. And when I needed him, he stood by me. He never wavered in his love for me. I <em>know<em> that. It's the truth, and it's right there, in his eyes. And I should have believed in it. I should have believed in _him_. No matter what. But I was blind. No, _blinded_. By... whatever it was. I shake off the word that pops into my head. _Jealousy_. No. No. Not that. Never that. But I can't dismiss it that easily, and when I do, it's followed immediately by another. _Fear_. And that one's even harder to ignore.

But I'm not blind any more. His eyes say it all. They show me so much love, so much understanding that it takes my breath away. But there's sadness in them too, and worry. I know he's wondering the same things I am. Where do we go from here?

I don't have the answers. And words seem inadequate right now. So I just open my arms and he doesn't hesitate. With a sigh he falls into them. I hold him close, and the feeling of his body against mine again makes me go weak in the knees. How I've missed this. How I've missed him! I've been a fool thinking I could wipe him from my life. I'll never, ever be able to do that. He's part of me.  
>I bury my face in his hair and close my eyes. His arms are wrapped around me, his fingers are clutching my shirt as if his life depends on it. We don't speak, we just stand there, and hold on.<p>

It's almost by instinct that I start nuzzling that soft, warm spot just behind his ear. As I breathe in his intoxicating scent, my lips seem to lead a life of their own and start kissing him there. I'm so lost in the moment that it takes me completely by surprise when he pulls back abruptly.  
>"No..." he says, his voice is cracking, "No... Christian... we can't..."<br>The sudden loss of his touch makes me shiver, and I can't stop the rush of panic that hits me when he refuses to make eye contact.  
>"Sy..." I reach out, trying to force him to face me. I don't know what I want to say, what I <em>should<em> say, but I don't get a chance to even try. He stops my hand mid-movement and takes both of them in his. His thumbs are softly rubbing my skin, comforting me, calming me down.

Looking down at our joint hands, he struggles to compose himself.  
>"We can't... we can't just pick up where we left off, Christian..." he finally says, carefully "Not after... all the things we said... and did to each other... All that <em>hurt,<em> Christian. That _anger_..." He sighs and looks up at last. "We can't just go on, pretending it didn't happen... It did. I hurt you. And you hurt me. And... if we don't deal with it, somehow... it will never go away." He looks me square in the eye now "We need to..."

"... _talk_" I interrupt him. I regret it immediately, knowing I should have let him say what he needed to say.  
>But it doesn't faze him. Instead, he chuckles fondly. "I missed that," he says "you finishing my lines for me."<br>"I'm sor..." I start, but it's his time to interrupt me."No" he insists with a wistful smile. "I really _have_ missed how you always used to read my mind..."

His use of the past tense doesn't escape me, and it touches a nerve. But before I can think of anything to say to that, he turns serious again.  
>"But we do need to talk, Christian"<br>"Yeah...," I agree, "we do."

I reluctantly pull back and reach for my phone. "Let me ring Jane, ask her if she can find somewhere else to stay tonight. So that we have all the time and space we need."  
>"Oh..." he blushes, "I completely forgot about Jane..."<br>"Don't worry about it, Sy" I reassure him "She won't mind. In fact, she'll be pleased. She's been going at me for weeks now about talking to you properly..."  
>"Really?"<br>"Yeah..." The hopeful confusion on his face makes me smile. "Jane always _was_ the clever one in the family. I should learn to listen to her more often... She thinks I've been acting like a fool."  
>"<em>And she's right<em>" the little voice inside my head says.  
>I softly touch his jaw, pushing away a wayward strand of hair. How I've missed the feel of him. I wish I could... But I push the thought away for now. "Why don't you go sit down, love." I whisper instead "I'll be right with you"<p>

As I start dialling Jane's number, I watch him throw off his jacket, and flop down on the sofa in that adorable, inimitable way of his. How just that sight, something so ordinary, can still make my heart skip... Only Sy, I think to myself, only Sy...  
>I'm still smiling when Jane answers the phone.<p>

0+0+0

"Thanks sis"  
>As I turn it off, my phone starts ringing again. I glance at the name flashing on my screen: Roxy. Part of me wants to take this. I hate being at odds with Roxy. But then I remember what she said. She really has gone too far this time. With a sigh, I push the ignore button, then turn my phone off completely. I have no time or patience for her right now.<br>I'm determined. The only thing that matters to me is Sy. He is my first priority. And so is getting our relationship back on track. I'll deal with Roxy later.  
>I chuck the phone on the table, and look up to see Syed watching me with concern. There must be something in my face, because he's guessed it straight away "Roxy?" he queries.<br>I just shrug.

"You don't have to do that, Christian" he sighs "You don't have to shut her off. She's your best friend. You've been mates longer than you know me. Don't mess it up on my account. You'll regret it"  
>"If she's really my friend, Sy, she should support me and respect my choices. Because that's what friends do. And that includes respecting <em>you<em>. She's always having a go..."  
>"But that doesn't matter, Christian" he tells me. I'm surprised at the insistence in his voice. "I don't care what Roxy thinks of me. But she's <em>your<em> friend, and I care about _you_ and what it will do to _you_ if you let this escalate. She's just looking out for you, trying to protect you...Because _that's_ what friends do..."  
>"I don't <em>need<em> protecting, Sy, I'm a big boy" I try to stay calm, but my frustrations with Roxy take hold of me again. "She never _listens_! I hate the way she treats you, and the way she talks about you...!"

He hesitates only for the briefest of moments. The words hit me like a blow.  
>"Well... you didn't seem to have any problems with that this morning, did you...?"<p>

A deafening silence falls between us.

In the second before he looks away, I see regret flash in his eyes. Instinctively, I know it's because he's afraid. Afraid that what he said will upset the fragile ceasefire between us. As if any form of criticism or reproach towards me would make me turn around and leave him again. I feel it stab at my heart. I don't know what hurts the most. That he's afraid to tell me this, that he thinks I will leave him again, or that he feels so strongly about it that he still said it, despite that fear. I hurt him, badly, I realize, and that's the stab to my heart that is the worst.

I sink down on the sofa next to him. He's staring at the floor and his hands are clasped so tightly together in his lap that his knuckles begin to turn white. For a fleeting moment I wonder if he's going to pull back when I reach for them. Then I realize how ridiculous it is that I would even think that, and I just do it. He immediately welcomes my touch and I squeeze his hand firmly in mine.

"I'm sorry for what I said to you this morning, Sy" I swallow hard "I really am. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean a word of it..."  
>"I know" he says quietly "I know you didn't." It's barely a whisper "It doesn't matter"<br>The sadness in his voice grips me, tugs at my heart. I touch his face, make him look up.  
>"Of course it does, Sy. If it makes you feel like this. Please..."<p>

He shakes his head. "It doesn't _matter_, Christian" he says again, I have to strain to hear him. "I _know_ you didn't mean it. There's _no way_ you could possibly mean it. I'm just being silly. It really _is_ okay..."

But I know it's not. I can tell by the way he protests too much, the way his eyes keep darting away, the way his fingers are twitching nervously in my hands. I wish I knew what to say.  
>The silence between us lingers, but he knows me well enough to know I won't let this pass. He finally looks up at me, a question in his eyes. I nod at him encouragingly, silently pleading with him to open up. He finally gives in.<br>"Sometimes... it's just... " he sighs, stops, tries again...

"Sometimes, it's... _hard_ being me, being the _real_ me... I know that sounds awful, but don't get me wrong... I don't have any regrets. Being the real me is _good._ It's who I want to be... and I'd never go back..." he shakes his head in frustration.  
>"I'm sorry, I'm rambling... But what I want to say... No matter how hard it was, especially at first, you... <em>you<em> made it easy. I don't know what I imagined would happen, after I first came out... People staring, pointing fingers, laughing even... I don't know. I wasn't sure how that would feel, how I would cope. But pretty soon, I realized that it didn't matter what people thought of me... I can handle their judgement, their opinions of me … whatever they are... because...they don't know me. They don't have a clue who I am or what I'm about..."

"It's the same with Roxy... I don't _care_ what she thinks of me. I really don't. It doesn't …. affect me. Because she doesn't _know_ me, Christian. She doesn't. Not really... So...I can shrug it off, dismiss it, not let it get to me..."

He takes a deep shivering breath "But I _can't_... _do_ that... when it's _you_, Christian..." his voice breaks "When it's _you_ saying those things... Because you... You _do_ know me. You're the only one who does..."

I feel guilt ripping through me. Have I even consciously considered what it does to him when I sling those things back in his face? When I …. laugh... at what was undoubtedly the hardest thing, the _bravest _thing, he ever did...? Of course I haven't... I curse myself silently. That's so me... act first, think later...

Syed's voice is quiet and sad as he goes on. "_You_ _know_ what it cost me, Christian. What it took me to find myself. To become the man I am today. To come to terms with that, with being me, accepting me... You know how hard it was, and how I struggled. You _know_, because you were there, every step of the way, and I wouldn't be here now, I wouldn't have come this far, without you... "

He's right. He's so right. Who better than me knows how hard it is to come out? Even to simply acknowledge to yourself that you are gay ? Any gay person will tell you how hard it is. It was agony for me. And for Sy, it was a hundred, a thousand times harder... I know that. I was there to see it.

"And still... Still, whenever we fight, whenever we disagree or argue, that's the _first_ thing you throw back in my face, Christian. The one thing you _know_ will hurt me the most. I know it's lashing out, I know they're just silly, random comments, said without thinking and without malice... I can rationalize it, explain it, and I can forgive it... easily... because I know that you don't mean it. But despite all that, it still hurts, Christian. And no matter how much I tell myself not to let it get to me, it still does. Because it's _you_, and_ you... know..._"

He finally runs out of steam. My heart is hammering painfully in my chest, and my own words come back to haunt me. What on earth was I thinking?  
>"<em>... unless I should say one-woman man?"<br>_"_Bi now, gay later...!"  
><em>"_...the sound of the closet door slamming shut...!"_

I did this to him. I _do_ this to him. I say these things, knowing full well how untrue they are, and how they will affect him. Despite what my heart tells me, I still do it, knowingly, deliberately. I can fool myself into believing that it's just lashing out, as he says, but if I'm honest, I know that's not quite true. Feeling... I don't know... justified? ... in my anger... I pick that one thing, subconsciously, or more consciously than I'd care to admit, because I want him to feel the pain I feel, I want him to hurt too.  
>And at the same time … I don't. Hurting him is the last thing I want.<p>

I stare down at our joint hands, his fingers still trustingly threaded through mine, and I can hardly believe how loving and forgiving he is. I don't deserve that, do I? He still loves me, he still trusts me, unconditionally. Despite everything. Suddenly I can't bear it any more. Abruptly I pull away and jump up, leaving him stunned on the sofa.  
>I can't look back. I don't need to look back to know his reaction. He's been trying so hard to hide this from me, even now... Sy being Sy, he takes the punches and swallows them. And as long as he pretends that it doesn't affect him, I can continue to pretend it's not real. That I haven't really caused him pain.<p>

I forgot how good he is at hiding his feelings... especially when he's hurt. I forgot, because right from the start, I managed to see through it. Through that mask of indifference he puts on, when he doesn't want people to see how he really feels. It's his defence mechanism, and it has served him well through all those years of denial. Until I cut through it. Until I showed him a different way, and he finally opened up and let me in. But when it gets too much, he still reverts back to old habits. It's the thing with defence mechanisms. They have a way of worming their way back in, despite your best intentions. Well... I know all about that, don't I?

All I want to do right now is take him in my arms and beg him to forgive me for being such an insensitive, bloody idiot. But I don't know if I can.

"Christian...?"  
>His gentle voice startles me, and I realize I must have been gazing at him, silently, unseeing, for minutes. He's holding out his hand to me, it's shaking, and I take it in mine. Looking into those deep, dark eyes that I love so much, I can see no bitterness, only concern and love... and hope.<br>"Sy..." I croak "I'm so sorry..." It's hardly enough, but it's the only thing I can think of to say. He pulls me nearer.  
>"It's okay..." he starts, but I interrupt him.<br>"No! It's not okay!" His eyes widen at my outburst. I force myself to calm down and drop to my knees in front of him.  
>"It's not okay, Sy" I repeat, quieter now "The last thing I <em>ever<em> wanted to do was hurt you..."  
>He reaches out, his thumb strokes my cheek."I kno.."<br>"No … please, Sy, just … let me say this … "

I take a deep breath "I'm sorry for the things I said, Sy, while I knew full well how much they'd hurt you... You're right... I _do_ know. I know what you went through, I saw the pain and the heartache, and … I know what you had to endure. And... and..."

Memories flash through my mind. Of how he was back then, fighting me, fighting his feelings, and most of all, fighting himself... All those conflicting emotions, his affection, his anguish, his despair, his passion, his anger, his remorse... And finally that moment when he came to me at last, leaving behind everything and everyone... _for me_.

"And... then... You came through at the other end, Sy... Despite everything it cost you... you came through... You became your own. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You were so brave, Sy... so amazingly brave... And you still are..."  
>I can feel the sting of tears pushing at the corner of my eyes.<br>"You made me so proud, and... I love you for it. So, so much..." I sigh, struggling to find the words. "You fought so hard, Sy... so hard that it nearly destroyed you... And then I go and use that against you..."  
>He tries to interrupt me, but I don't let him. "I can say it's a joke, I can say it's lashing out, and I don't mean it. I can dress it up whichever way I want... but … it's still <em>wrong<em>, Sy, it's unfair, and... mean. You don't deserve that... And I will... never... do it again. I swear to you..."  
>Unable to face the kindness in his eyes any longer, I drop my head in his lap.<br>"I'm so sorry" I mumble against his legs. "Can you forgive me?"  
>I feel him running his fingers gingerly through my hair.<p>

"Of course I forgive you, Christian" he whispers. "But... only if..."  
>There's something in his voice that makes me look up.<br>"...only if _you_ forgive _me_, for all the horrible things_ I _said to _you_... I said some awful things..." He swallows. "That ... row... we had, Christian... I..."  
>"Shhhhhh," it's me comforting him now. "I know you didn't mean any of it"<br>"It was awful!" he insists, "I _hurt_ you."  
>"Yeah... you did, but you didn't mean to...I've done enough of it myself, Sy, to know lashing out when I hear it" I sigh with a chuckle "What a pair we are, eh...?"<p>

He still looks doubtful. "I don't want you to think... Christian, I..." He takes a deep breath "I want you to know that... that I never, _ever... _not for a second... thought that... you... that there was any truth in what Ben said... Never! I was just scared... and then Phil threatened us, and thrashed the place, and … I panicked ... and you just... and I was... and I said things... but I … never... Never, Christian, not once, did it even cross my mind that you... that you would..."  
>"Shhhhh" I stop his worried rant. "I know, Sy, I never, ever thought that you doubted me. Not for a single second. Believe me."<p>

There's confusion on his face.  
>"But you left" he says "You still left..."<br>That's when it hits me.  
>"Oh my God, Sy... You didn't think...? You didn't think I left because I thought you doubted me over <em>that<em>... Really?"  
>He doesn't answer, but the expression on his face says it all.<br>"No, Sy" I insist "I never thought that. Not once"  
>"But you <em>left<em>" he says again. It's as if he suddenly comes out of a trance and he pulls away from me. "You left, Christian. If it's not about _that_, then _what_? _Why_?"

I think of all the reasons I had, to go away. All of them so justified and so warranted. I felt angry and hurt, and let down by him in a hundred different ways. That pain's not gone, far from it, and yet all my reasons seem overrated now. I know that whatever I say to answer his question, whichever way I say it, no matter how I will dress it up... it will sound hard and unforgiving. I don't want that. I can't hurt him more than I already have done... So I find I can't speak. I just shake my head.

But he won't let it go. He's as stubborn as I _am._  
><em>"Why,<em> Christian?" he insists "What did I do? If it wasn't _that_, then what was it that I did that was so bad that it made you... just... up and leave... without any explanation? What did I do? It must be something..." He's pleading me with his eyes. "Tell me," he begs.

He's blaming himself. Of course he is. It's almost second nature to him. Something bad happens, and he immediately thinks he's done something wrong. That he's the one to blame. He's not completely wrong this time, of course. This _was_ about him, about what he said and what he did. Or more about what he didn't say, and didn't do. But I can't tell him that, I just can't...

"It doesn't matter anymore, Sy" I say "It really doesn't. It's... gone... "  
>But he refuses to accept it.<br>"No, Christian... That's not good enough! I need to know! You have to tell me what it was that made you... that made you say that our love was not enough... that we were... _over_..." He nearly chokes on the words. "You didn't even want to _speak_ to me, for weeks on end... and when you finally did..." He shakes his head, as if to rid himself of a painful memory. "If you don't tell me why, then how do I know that the next time we have an argument, or disagree over something... you won't leave me again?"  
>"I won't!"<br>"But how do I _know_ that?" Tears of frustration are running down his face now. He makes no attempt to hide them. I reach up to wipe them away, but he angrily pushes my hand away.  
>"Why won't you just <em>answer<em> me? It's a simple enough question!" he's clearly had enough of my silence. "Talk to me, Christian. Please!"  
>"Sy..." I shake my head "Let it go..."<p>

"No." he says. He's calm suddenly. "No. I'm not doing this anymore, Christian. I can't. I really can't" He gets up from the sofa, shakily, but determined. "If you can't tell me what's wrong, if you can't even look me in the eye and tell me what made you decide to give up on us, then what chance do we have now? Eh? You tell me, Christian, what chance do we have?"

I watch him pick up his jacket and struggle to get it on. His movements are jerky, and testimony to his frustration and despair. And I just sit there, on my knees on the floor, feeling completely paralysed. Words are forming in my head, but I still can't say them.

He's not really leaving. He can't be... But then his jacket is on, and he walks to the door, stumbling almost, and when he speaks, I understand why. He's crying.  
>"I love you, Christian. But if you can't talk to me... I... I can't..."<p>

No. No. He can't leave. Not now. Not now that I finally have him back... I have to stop him. I have to...say... I...

"I was _angry_!" the sound of my own voice startles me, and the words that come out astound me even more "I was angry, so... so _bloody_ _angry_ with you...! And I almost..."

It stops him dead in his tracks. He turns around, and we breathlessly glare at each other across the room.  
>"You almost <em>what<em>?" he says, his voice is breaking, but his gaze remains steady.  
>I shake my head.<br>"_Say it_!"

For a fleeting second, I realize I may be about to ruin everything. I could be destroying the best, most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me.  
>But no matter how hard I try, I can't hold it back anymore.<br>"I almost _hated_ you..."

_0+0+0+0_

_Sorry to leave them like this... In fact, it may be getting even worse before it gets better. But better it will get, I promise.__  
>If you're not too upset with me for doing this to them, then maybe you can leave a review... like, encourage me to hurry up and sort them out...? :P<br>Thanks for reading!_

_And thank you **Clarkie** for that invaluable 'fresh' pair of eyes xxx_


	3. Fears and expectations

_A/N Thank you everybody for your reviews and comments. Means a lot. x  
>Finally, here's chapter 3 - and it's angsty, like I promised! ;p<br>Oh... and Chapter 4 is on its way... some time... _

_Thought I'd also better clarify - Syed, Christian and EastEnders are not mine (unfortunately) - they belong to the BBC, so no copyright infringement intended! _

_0+0+0+0_

**CHAPTER THREE – Fears and expectations**

**~ Syed ~**

My world is crumbling around me.  
>I don't know what I expected. But not this. Not this feeling as if someone just punched me in the gut and knocked all the air out of me.<br>Not that _word_ that's now ringing in my ears.  
><em>Hate.<br>_"_I almost hated you!"_

I can't believe he said that, and by the look of it, neither can he. He's still sitting there, paralysed, on his knees on that same spot on the floor, looking completely in shock. As if the words he just spoke have horrified him as much as they have me. I want to look away, I desperately try to, because it hurts so much to look at him right now. But my eyes refuse to let go of his. And his are glued to mine. Part of me wishes he'd look away, but at the same time I don't want him to. I frantically try to read them, those beautiful eyes of his. And what I find in them is what I know is in mine, and what we both try to hold back in vain.  
>Tears. And regret…, terrible, terrible regret.<p>

Is this it? Have we just crossed a line that's irreversible? Have we gone too far? The thought nearly makes me double over.

But no. No!  
>We have fought too hard…<em> I<em> have fought too hard, not just once, but twice…no, _three times_… for this relationship, for this _man_, for this _love_, to just give up now. I won't. I just won't. I don't want to. My life without him is empty and meaningless, and the truth is that I simply love him too much to let go.  
>I love him too much to believe what he just said.<p>

I try to steady myself, sucking in as much oxygen as I can, before I speak.

"So… what d…" I run out of breath after barely two words. I swallow, try again "What do you expect me to do now? Eh? What do you _want_ me to do, Christian? Walk away? Do you think I'll just turn around and walk away now?"  
>The sound of my voice seems to break an invisible spell in him, and he finally tears away his eyes from mine. And the second he does, his whole body sags in defeat. As if it was our eyes connecting that kept him holding on. He drops his head in his hands. I've never seen him so lost.<p>

And suddenly, very clearly, I know what I need to do. A little unsteady on my feet, I walk towards him.  
>"Well, I won't…." I tell him. "I won't!" I drop to my knees in front of him, and not letting myself be deterred by his mumbled protests, I take hold of his shaking hands and pull them away from his face. He's strong, but I'm stronger right now.<p>

"I won't walk away, Christian, and you know why?" He keeps his head down, his eyes averted, but our faces are so close that I can feel his ragged breath on mine.  
>"Because I don't believe you." I squeeze his hands tightly in mine. "Look at me, Christian…" He shakes his head, and he's still trying to pull his hands away from mine, but I won't let go. "Look at me…" I hardly know where I get this strength from, how I can hold on without breaking. All I know is that he matters more to me than I can reasonably explain.<p>

"I don't believe you. Because just half an hour ago, you took my hand, and… and you brought me home" I stubbornly swallow away the tears that threaten to fall. I won't cry. But it's hard to contain my raging emotions. "And what I felt, what I saw, what you _gave_ me, Christian …. And what I feel _now_, has nothing, _nothing_, to do with hate. _You love me_. I _know_ that. I don't doubt that..." Something in what I say must resonate with him, because he finally ventures a tentative look in my direction. "And _I _love_ you_." I continue "You can push me away as hard as you like, but it won't change _that_. Nothing will change that…"

I move closer to him, try to pull him in, but he still resists. "Talk to me" I beg him "Tell me. I can take it. Tell me what's on your mind. All of it. We need to work this out, Christian… Please …"

He's still refusing to make eye contact, still tries to pull back, but I'm as stubborn as he is, and don't let go. We sit in silence for a long moment, neither of us willing – or capable - to break the stalemate. Then he finally looks up at me again and seeing the resolve in my eyes, he sighs resignedly.  
>"I… I don't know where to start…." It takes him a while, but then a sudden flood of words comes rushing out, as if he needs to say them before he can stop himself.<br>"Before all this, Sy… there would be moments… I'd catch myself… watching you, going about your usual business, nothing special … and I'd… I'd feel so… completely… _overwhelmed_ by the simple joy of having you by my side… of having you in my life...I wouldn't even need to talk to you ... or touch you. Just the feeling of having you there, close to me..." Almost despite himself, he reaches out and softly touches the side of my face. "Even after all the time we'd been together, that feeling would still, _always_, find a way of creeping up on me, unexpectedly, and take my breath away..."

I know exactly what he means. I smile and reach up to cover his hand with mine, but he stops me with a shake of his head, and drops his own hand to his lap. "But…. With everything that was going on…" he swallows, "I felt it … slipping away… That amazing, magical feeling got overshadowed by... so much hurt and frustration, and all that… _anger_…. And that terrified me… What if all that I would end up feeling for you would be … just _that_...? Anger. Resentment. Or worse… Nothing at all…."  
>His voice is breaking.<p>

"I couldn't bear that, Sy… Being angry with you is bad enough… but feel _nothing._..? How could I live with that? We'd been through so much together, we'd been angry and upset, irrational and unreasonable ... we'd torn pieces off each other, but I had never had that overpowering sense of … loss … Not even when we were apart before. I… I didn't know what I felt for you anymore, and that shook me… so, so much… I just had to leave…"

Why on earth did I think I wanted to hear this? Why did I think I would be able to stand it? The thought that his feelings for me might have faded, nearly makes me choke. But I have to know, I have to ask. "And now….?" I barely recognize my own voice. "Do you still feel like that?"

He almost laughs at the question "No!" he shakes his head, "of course not! I was barely gone two minutes when I realized that being away from you was worse than anything else. I could _never_ feel nothing for you, Sy… who was I trying to fool? And _hate_ you? Not in a million years…."

"But… if that's how you felt, Christian, why didn't you come back? Why did you stay away so long? Why did you say we were over?"

"I was hurt, Sy. So I made up my mind. I was not going to let you come close again. I was going to move on. Head to the ground. Move forward. Stay angry. Don't look up, and most definitely don't look back…. I was getting really good at it too, keeping my feelings in check, sealing off my heart... You know how stubborn I can get … I had no intention of changing my mind. In the end, ironically, it was your father-in-law who pulled away my blinders. Every part of me sprung back to life when Qadim said you were getting a divorce…. It was as if my whole body, my whole being had been waiting for… that magic word. Nothing could have stopped me after that… I just did what my instincts told me, and that was finding you…"

I have to smile. It's so him. I can almost see it happening before my eyes, as if I was there… Christian fearlessly jumping to my defence, then rushing round the square trying to find me… But something still nags at me, and I can't hold it back. I've had enough of holding things back.  
>"But …. why didn't you believe <em>me<em> when I said that I was going to divorce her. I told you I only wanted to be with _you_, Christian, that I wanted us to start again… today at the restaurant, yesterday on the phone… I kept saying it. But you didn't listen. Why did someone else have to... confirm it... ? Like you needed proof or something. Why couldn't you just believe _me_?"

He looks at me in silence, his eyes so serious, and it suddenly hits me.  
>"You still don't, do you?"<br>It's not a question. I'm just stating a fact.  
>"You're still angry with me"<br>It's still there. I know it, I sense it... it's there...inside him... simmering just beneath the surface. And no matter how much it scares me to hear him actually say it, I also know that we can't keep ignoring the truth. We have to stop tiptoeing around each other like this. It has to come out. For both our sakes.

He shakes his head and looks to the side, grimacing slightly.  
>"I don't <em>want<em> to be, Sy... I never want to be... but sometimes I just… Sometimes _you_ just…" He sighs.  
>"<em>What<em>, Christian?"  
>"It doesn't matter" he mumbles.<br>"Of course it _matters_! It made you leave. You… _ended_ it…! The least you can do is tell me why!" I press on "Come on… tell me!"  
>He's still resisting, and I can feel my patience wearing thin.<br>"For heaven's sake, Christian, out with it! I've had the silent treatment from you for weeks now. Just... stop locking me _out_, it hurts, and I'm sick of it...!"

"So now you know how it feels!" he shouts, his anger suddenly exploding, leaving me startled. "_I _lock _you_ out? Don't make me laugh! The moment your wife..."  
>"Ex-wife..." I protest feebly.<br>"Your _wife_ came back, _you_ shut _me_ off from _every_ part of your life...! You _lied_ to me. You went behind my back. You said one thing, made promises to me, then turned around and did the complete opposite. And worst of all... without even a second thought, you walked straight back into the sham with her…"  
>"I didn't!"<br>"Yes, you did, Sy, and don't you deny it! You were so busy playing happy families with your _wife_, that you completely forgot everything that happened over the past year, you completely bypassed the truth about yourself… Bypassed _me_…! I became nothing more to you than a roommate you came home to, and warmed your feet against at night... and apart from that... I was just an inconvenience to your perfect little life…"  
>"That's <em>not<em> true, Christian. How can you say that? I never stopped telling Amira, telling everybody, that I wanted y…"  
>"It <em>is<em> true, Sy! Stop denying it!" he sneers.

"Oh for goodness' sake! How many times…?" I cry out in exasperation "Why do I bother? You're not even listening!" I scramble to get up, but he grabs my arm and yanks me back. His fingers are painfully digging in my skin, and his eyes are shooting fire. I wanted his anger to come out. I begged for it. And here it is. At last.  
>"Don't you dare run away now, <em>Syed<em>! You wanted the truth? Well, here you have it. You set up house with her, you gave up the job you _loved_ to go into business with her, you considered moving to Pakistan with her, you even started wearing your wedding ring again…. If that's not going back into a sham, then I don't know what the hell is… You can fool yourself as much as you like, but that's _exactly_ what you were doing….!"

Seething with frustration at the unfairness of his claims, I wrench myself free from his grip.  
>"Apart from the fact that half of that isn't even <em>true<em>, Christian, or torn completely out of context... all that happened _after_ you left!"  
>"So…?"<br>"So you can't use what I did _after_ you left as a _reason_ for leaving! That is absurd! That's like punishing someone for something they might never do… ! And then using that punishment to prove your point… That's the world upside down…! Unless you're a … a time lord.. you had no way of knowing what I would do…"  
>"Oh, I knew! And I was right, wasn't I? First chance you got, you jumped right back into the closet! I bet the proud grandparents were really chuffed to have their golden boy back on the straight and narrow... <em>Straight<em> being the operative word here!"

And here we are.  
>Again.<br>This is how it must feel to bang your head against a brick wall.

"It's always going to be _that_, isn't it, Christian? Always. It's not even 10 minutes ago that you promised me you would never sling that into my face again. And we're back here already. You're never, _ever_ going to trust me enough to believe that I wouldn't go back, are you…?"  
>"I want to believe you, Sy, I really do, but the minute I turn my back…"<br>"There…! There, you said it: _you_ turned your back! _You_ left, Christian, you chose to walk away and leave me. After everything we'd been through together. After everything I gave up to be with you. You left me. Alone. My whole world fell apart, and I had nothing, _nothing_! You didn't even bother telling me why …. Instead you let your sister, your _sister_, Christian, tell me that we were over, that I shouldn't hold any hope that we could ever be together again…"  
>He flinches and I know I hit a nerve.<br>"So it's all my fault now?"  
>"I didn't <em>say<em> that! But you're not being fair. I ask you why you left, and you bring up things that happened _after_. Let me spell it out to you : not before, and not after you left, _did_ or _do_ I have any intention whatsoever of returning to a sham, of… jumping back into the closet, as you so eloquently put it…!"  
>"Ha, don't give me that!" he snorts "You could hardly wait until I was gone, so you could go play mummies and daddies with Amira! So stop acting like I'm the one that made that happen! The very fact you could move on from what we had so easily just makes me wonder how much you really loved me to begin with….!"<p>

There's a moment's silence as shock registers with us both. Christian has turned as white as a sheet and he swallows desperately, trying to take back the horror that has just tumbled out of his mouth. But it's too late. The words echo through the room accusingly. Again it's like he slapped me in the face. Again he lashes out, and rips my heart to shreds. But I'm too angry to be upset.  
>"That's not fair and it sure as hell isn't true and you know it!" I snap. "If <em>that's<em> what you think, then I'm leaving right now! I _dare_ you, Christian, to say that again. Tell me you think that I didn't … that I _don't_ love you. Come on! Say it!"  
>"I can't..." he whispers miserably. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have..."<br>I can tell from his horrified expression that he means it. But I'm not finished with him yet.  
>"So what did you expect me to do after you left... eh? What did you think I'd do? Crawl up in a corner and cry myself to sleep every night….?" I feel myself shrink back at the memories, but I stubbornly push them away.<br>"Well… for your information, that's _exactly_ what I did!" Something shifts in his eyes, but I don't give him a chance to react, and I push on relentlessly. "And then... when I'd spent enough time feeling sorry for myself, fooling myself into believing that you'd come back… I pulled myself together… holding on to the _one_ thing I had left to hang onto… my daughter. You told me to move on, Christian… and I did! Don't you _dare_ use that against me now! I was the one that got left with a broken heart while you just walked away like I meant _nothing_ to you. You couldn't even be bothered to try to work things out...You just waltzed off and ruined _everything_. And let's not even talk about how _you_ _moved_ _on_...shall we? You were probably back into your own special brand of _sham_ within hours of leaving Walford…!"  
>He looks at me incredulously. "You think it was <em>easy<em> for me, to leave you? You were my _life_, Sy. I couldn't imagine ever being without you. That was the hardest thing I ever had to do, walking out that door. It broke my heart..."

"_Then why the hell did you do it?"_

The anger and the hurt in my own voice startles me. It's not at all like me to swear. But I'm not sure I can take much more of this. I want him to hear me. I want him to listen. But more importantly I want him to _talk_ to me. I struggle to calm myself, I know shouting at each other won't do us any good. Remember what it did to us last time….

So I try again.  
>"You could have talked to me, Christian. We could have sorted it out. I would've done anything to make it work. Anything. I was willing to fight for us – again! And I thought you were too. Right up until the part where you left... and gave up"<p>

He rubs his eyes, warily. "I wanted to fight, Sy. I really did. But whichever way I turned, the doors of your life were closing on me... I was locked out, _again_, and there was no way back in. The moment Amira turned up, with Yasmin, it all started again. The lying, the dishonesty, the evasiveness. All my worst fears came true... It was like going back in time. You with them, and me on the outside looking in. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? I became… an afterthought for you. Nothing was ever about us again, it was always about them – and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't be part of it. Amira made sure of that. And it didn't even seem to bother you, you just went along..."

"Of course it bothered me. Do you seriously think I didn't try? I just…. wanted to do right by everyone. That's what I do. It's my nature… and it's my curse… So I messed it up… again, like I usually do. I know I hurt you, and let things go too far…. But… you hurt me too, you know. You wanted me to _choose_, Christian! How fair is that? She's my daughter…!"

"I know that" he sighs, "I shouldn't have … done that…. But… but… it's not even about Yasmin, Sy. Not really. It's about there always being _something_ that holds you back… something that comes between us and stops you from … being _you_. Your family, your... your... _guilt_! That irrational sense of … responsibility you have, that all-consuming _need_ of yours to be the dutiful son..."  
>"But I gave that up for you, Christian!"<br>"Yeah… and you're never going to make me forget it, are you?"  
>"Excuse me?"<br>"I'll never be forgiven for that… for taking your family away from you"  
>I can't believe what I'm hearing. "Is that … how you think I feel? Really? Don't you know me at all? You think I <em>blame<em> you…? It was _my_ _choice_, Christian! And if there's anyone to blame, it's them.. for making it into a choice in the first place… I don't get it, I thought we had gotten past all that..."  
>"We hadn't, Sy, and you know it. You weren't moving past it. And neither was I. It just never stops... I couldn't cope with it anymore. You… pining over them, trying so hard to get back in their good books… And every time you as much as had a nice word from them, I felt you slipping away from me a little bit more…"<p>

"Now it's _you_ making it into a choice! Of course I want my family back in my life, Christian. I never lied to you about that. But I also told you, time and time again, that I would never, _ever_ give _you_ up, give up my life with you, give up who I _am_, to achieve it…. Why can't you believe me?"

"There's no denying it, Sy. When you chose me, you lost them. I took that from you. I took away something that's important and precious to you. And that's the guilt _I_ have to live with. The _fear_ I have to live with. That when it really comes down to it, I'm not enough for you. Amira and Yasmin's arrival only confirmed that. And that fear, Sy, that knowledge... it wore me down, it ate me up inside …. I guess, in the end… that's why I had to leave. It would've been more painful for both of us if I'd stayed…"

"But it wasn't up to you to decide that for the both of us! Don't I get a say in any of this? You make all these assumptions about me, Christian. And they're really nothing more than that. Assumptions. I thought you knew me. But instead you add up two and two, and come up with four thousand…!  
>What makes you think that you're not enough for me? I know I treated you really badly in the past and I don't blame you for still feeling upset about it. But… if we want a future together... at some point, Christian, you're going to have to let go of the past. You speak all that nonsense of me not forgiving you… but… but..." I swallow desperately, but I have to say it. My own worst fear.<br>"_You_ are never going to forgive _me_, are you?"

He head shoots up, clearly shocked that I would even suggest that  
>"I <em>have<em> forgiven you, Sy…. I _have_, a long, long time ago…"

"No, _you haven't!"_ I almost cry for real now. But this is the one thing that scares me more than anything else. And I need to tell him "You want to. You try to … but you can't! It's always going to be there! What I said, what I did, how I acted…. It's always going to be hanging over our heads, and any trivial disagreement, any argument, any sliver of doubt on my part, real, or imagined, is always going to be a reason for you to point back to that and to… to run scared…!"

"Sy…" he tries to interrupt me, but I need to get this out.

"How many times do you want me to say how sorry I am for how I treated you back then, Christian? It tears me apart to know what I did, and I'm not sure I will ever be able to forgive myself. You know that, you're the one that tells me that I should stop punishing myself, that I should let go of the past. But if you're honest… you can't let go of it yourself, can you? I don't know what more I can do to prove to you that I'm not the man anymore that I was back then – and that I will never be that man again….. If you can't trust me enough to believe _that_….then… I … don't know… how… "

I can't continue. I can't say the words. I need so much for him to trust me. It hurts to think that maybe – even after all this time – he still doesn't. That he still seems to think I would leave or hurt him. While I have done everything in my power to try and convince him that I wouldn't, that I won't.

"When are you going to start trusting me, Christian? When...? Because if we're meant to be together... and despite... _all this_... I know in my heart that we are... you're going to have to believe me when I say that _this_ is the only life I want. That it's _you_ I want. That it's _you _that I love."

"I know you love me, Sy. And I do trust you."  
>And just like that, as quickly as it came, all the anger between us dissolves...<br>He sighs. "It's _me_ I don't trust. I'm just… scared, okay? I'm so irrational sometimes, it drives me up the wall. For some reason... I'm always insecure about you, simply because, well, you're _you_. The one person I have no secrets for, who knows me inside out, who's seen all of me, the best and the worst, and still loves me nevertheless. I know you wouldn't break my heart intentionally, but it doesn't stop me from worrying that someday... you're going to be fed up and run for the woods. And how could I blame you? It's not just about _your_ regrets, Sy. What about me? What about the way _I_'ve treated _you_? Going on and on, pushing you to the brink, putting demands on you, setting you ultimatums... I've been selfish, and unreasonable and…inconsiderate and…. I still do it…. How could I even blame you if you wanted out?"

"Christian..."  
>I try to stop him, but he goes on relentlessly.<p>

"There's this little voice inside my head that keeps saying that I don't deserve you, I don't deserve to be this happy... And half the time, I'm just waiting for the moment when it's all going to fall apart, when I'll wake up from this wonderful dream and find that life was just playing a cruel joke on me…" His eyes are cast down, his voice getting softer and softer. "It _is_ the past, Sy, that's holding me back… You're right, it is. But not just _our_ past… but _my_ past too. Stuff that happened long before I even met you, and that I can't seem to shake…"

"And then, there's your family, sucking you back in, drawing you away from me... And... and since you've become a dad, I feel like I don't stand a chance… It's not something I'm proud of, Sy... being jealous of a one year old... But... she's your daughter… how can I possibly compete with that…?"

"_Compete? _Christian….!" I sigh "What on earth makes you think this is a competition? This isn't about who I love _more_. What do you want me to do? Rank you? Draw up my Top 10 list of the people I love the most, with you at number one? Of course you're number one! But Yasmin's at the top of my list too, Christian, she's right next to you… and she's there to stay. I can't put you above Yasmin….. just like I can't put her above you! It's not the same thing. I love her and I love you. It's _not_ a competition. And trust me, I have enough love for the both of you…"

I take his hands in mine and force him to look at me. It's strange to see the insecurity in his eyes. He always seems so strong and fearless, but I know him well enough to know that he isn't. "Do you think that me being a dad changes what I feel for you?" I ask him gently, rubbing soothing circles in the palm of his hand.

He just bows his head and shrugs a little.

"Well, yes, Christian. It _has_ changed the way I feel about you." Before I have the chance to finish my sentence, I feel his whole body tense, as I know if would. He's trying to pull back from me again, but I don't let him.  
>"Babe... Look at me" I whisper. When he finally does, tentatively, I see his eyes are shining as he's holding back his tears.<br>"It makes me love you _more_, you silly man!" I take his face in my hands. "Don't you know, Christian, what you've given me? Because of you, I can look at myself in the mirror, and see someone I actually like. I'm free, and happy, and I'm _me_. True to myself. Proud of who I am. And not hiding anymore! I'm a better man because of you, Christian, and that… that makes me a better dad. _You_ make me a better dad. And I love you for it. I love you, even when you drive me insane…"

There's this incredulous look on his face, as if he can't believe I said that. I can't bear it anymore. I scoot closer and wrap my arms around him. He doesn't resist this time. Instead, he rests his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes "I'm so tired of this..." he whispers softly against my neck "I'm such an idiot. I'm so scared of losing you that I keep pushing you away."  
>"You won't lose me. I promise" I say, and rock him slightly in my arms, massage my hands up and down his spine. I feel him relaxing slowly. He sniffs a little as he settles into the niche between my head and shoulder, and holds onto me tightly.<p>

We don't speak for a long time. I can feel my own frantic heartbeat start to return to a more normal pace. No matter what, nothing beats this. Being with Christian is still the best feeling ever.

"Do you ever regret it? This? Being with me?" he suddenly asks, waking me from my reverie. Is he reading my mind again?  
>Even if I could think, I would give him the same answer. "No."<br>"Not even after everything that's happened? Everything you've lost?"  
>"No. Not ever."<br>"Why not?"  
>I take a deep breath. "I may have lost a lot, but I've gained so much more." I pull back a little to look at him, press my lips against his forehead. "I can be who I want to be, I can lead the life I want to lead with the person I want to share it with. How could I possibly regret that?"<br>He lets out what I think is a sigh of relief, though it sounds more like a sob.  
>"Thank you," he mumbles.<br>"For what?"  
>"For being here. For saying that you don't regret this. For being so amazingly patient when I behave like a jerk... I'm sorry for acting jealous and stupid and as though I don't trust you... I <em>do<em> trust you, Sy... more than anyone. I just… _freak out_ sometimes … "  
>"Yeah.." I smile "I know… And so do I…" I fold my hands around his precious face and try to wipe away his frown. "Let me tell you one more time, Christian. I wouldn't trade being with you with anything or anyone else in the world. <em>This<em> is what I want. And I'm not going anywhere. Where would I go? There's nowhere else I want to be" I kiss his forehead once more, lingering a bit longer this time. "We just both need to let go of the past, babe. We really do..."  
>"Yeah" he sighs. "You're right. But it's not that easy, is it?"<br>"No" I admit "but we'll get there, Christian. I know we will."  
>"I think I'm going to need your help, Sy" he says quietly "Will you...?"<br>"Why don't we help each other, eh?"  
>"I'd like that" He smiles a little "I'd like that a lot"<p>

He buries his head against my shoulder again, and as I wrap my arms around him tightly, a sudden calm washes over me. Right here, right now, this very minute, I know that all will be well. No matter how awful this has been, no matter how much reaching out we still have to do, no matter how long and how hard the road ahead of us may still be… I'm holding him close to me again, and that makes me sure, so sure, that me and him… we're going to be just fine.

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_Thought I'd leave them in a slightly better place than at the end of chapter 2... but they've not done talking yet. More to come from Christian's POV_  
><em>Thanks in advance for reviews &amp; comments xx<em>


	4. Into the future

_**A/N : This chapter has been lurking in my personal archive for nearly half a year now... For a long time I wondered if it was still "right" to post it, as the story on our screens overtook this AU a very very long time ago now. Made this all a little redundant, no?  
>But I found it back, read it, and remembered why I wrote it, and why I should share it with all of you who loved and still love Chryed. <strong>_

_**Reminder : this is following on the "handhold reconciliation" of January 2012 - a long, long time ago... **_

**CHAPTER 4 - Into the future**

~ Christian ~

If there's one thing about Sy that never ceases to amaze me, it's his strength.

He'd laugh in my face if I told him that. But it's true. That deceivingly delicate frame of his hides a surprising physical strength. I feel it now, his arms surrounding me, holding me tight.

But even more impressive than that is his inner, moral strength. When I first met him, I didn't think he was strong. I thought he was weak. Too weak to stand up for himself, too weak to admit his feelings to himself and to the world, too weak to be true to himself. Too weak, most of all, to let go of his mother's apron strings. But I was wrong. The problem was that he simply didn't know how strong he was, and when he finally realized it, it set him free, and he became his own. He's still convinced he owes me for that. He still thinks I had a part to play in it, but the simple truth is, he did it all by himself. He found his strength, and with that, he found himself.

He doesn't believe me when I tell him he's stronger than me. But the proof is here, right now. I gave up, and he hung on. He holds me up when I fall to pieces. He does it literally, and in every other possible meaning of the word. As much as he may think that he relies on me, I rely on him even more.

I don't know how long we've been sitting here, on the floor, holding on to each other. The air still thick with emotion, the words, the hurt, the lashing out still ringing in our ears. But while I hang on to him, I also hang on to the belief that from here on things can only get better. I hang on to the certainty that he's here, right now, with me, and he's strong enough for the both of us.

Though the silence between us is comfortable, it lingers too long to my liking. If Sy is anything like me in this respect, and I know he is, he's mulling things over… and over… We need a breather. I'm good at those, normally. I'm not so sure now, but I have to try.

"I know you're not keen on that wicker sofa, Sy, but why exactly are we sitting on the floor…?" I know it's a feeble attempt at humour, but as I hoped, it has the desired effect. A giggle bubbles from his throat and it's like music to my ears.

"Well, _you_ started it!" he mocks me

"Hmmm… I did, didn't I..?" I admit "Well, I suppose it's up to me then to put an end to it too"

In one swift movement I push myself to my feet, and reach out my hand. "Come on then". Without hesitation he grabs it and lets me pull him up.

For a moment we stand motionless, close, almost too close, our breaths mingling, just staring at each other. I recognize the nerves in his restless eyes, I feel them too. As always, the electricity between us is palpable, but I let it go. For now. I'm determined to get it right this time. I'm not going to force him or push him, but at the same time, I want us to move forward too. So I plop down on the sofa and tap the empty space beside me. He hesitates, maybe a second too long, but strangely it doesn't unnerve me. He's got every right to have the jitters, after everything that's happened.  
>When he lowers himself down next to me, we sit uncomfortably side by side for a moment, each at an end of the sofa. Not far apart, that's physically impossible on this thing, but still apart, a little rigid, a little scared. He finally takes a deep breath, as if to gather up his courage, then steels a look in my direction. I don't know what he sees in my face, I can only hope it's my love for him. Whatever it is, it seems to reassure him, and the insecurity in his eyes floats away like a cloud chased by the sun. He smiles the most beautiful smile, and without a word, or any more hesitation, he leans into me, buries his face against my collarbone and sighs. I gently fold my arms around him, hold him close to me, and feel him relax.<p>

It's the best feeling ever.

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"You have a beautiful daughter, Sy"  
>I can feel his smile more than I can see it. "Yeah" he mumbles quietly.<br>I don't want to interrupt this bliss, but it's like he said, we have to talk things through. We have to say it all.

"And I'm… I'm so… jealous"  
>Syed pulls back and looks up at me, with a confused and startled look on his face.<br>"What?"  
>"I'm jealous" I say again.<br>"Of Yasmin?" he frowns "But.."  
>"No… not of Yasmin…" I take a deep breath and blurt it out "Of <em>you!<em>"  
>"But…"<br>"I know it's silly and I know it's stupid and…. pretty awful, surely, but… it's true. I envy you… So... so much"  
>He's still trying to take it in, and shakes his head.<br>"But..."

It's all he seems capable of saying right now. So I ramble on...  
>"Surely, Sy, the irony of it all hasn't escaped you, has it?" I close my eyes. I'm not so sure now if it was such a good idea to tell him this. But I know I have to. If we keep this kind of stuff locked away, it will haunt us forever.<br>"I wanted to be a dad so badly. And you didn't. And now…." I find it hard to talk, I didn't realize that simply saying the words would hurt so much "Now _you are_ a dad. And I'm not, and… and I probably never will be…" To my horror I feel tears pushing at the corners of my eyes. "And I envy you… a lot…"

He's still looking at me so confused, I have to explain.

"Please… don't get me wrong, Sy… I'm really happy for you. I am! That you … have this. That you can be a dad…! It's such a wonderful, wonderful thing. This little person… she's part of you, always will be, and she's going to change your life forever… You're going to have such great times together. It's … so amazing to see how you… _blossom_. It really suits you, Sy, being a dad, and I'm so, so happy for you that you can experience that. But… But there's part of me that…. That just feels … that … " I can barely continue. If I thought that I could hold back my tears over this, I was so wrong. I don't want to cry, I don't want him to feel bad about it, because none of it is his fault. It's no one's fault, it just… _is_.

But the tears fall anyway, and there's nothing I can do to stop them. "I want it to be _me_, Sy. I want to feel the things you feel, I want to be a dad and…. sometimes… it just _hurts_ … so much…."

"Oh Christian…" he whispers. And without saying anything more, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

I hide my face in the crook of his neck, and as I cry, I realize that it's not just over this that my tears are falling. Maybe now is the first time that I allow myself to properly feel the loss of him, to feel how much I've missed him and how scared I've been of maybe never having him in my arms again.

"I'm so sorry, Christian" I feel the breath of his mumbled words against my skin, but I'm not sure I heard him right. He's still rubbing my back in comforting strokes "I'm sorry" he says again. He's sorry? What for? I pull back a little to look at him.  
>"Why are you apologizing?" I ask him, pushing away the remnants of my tears. "You have nothing to be sorry about!"<br>"But I do" he says, and sighs regretfully "I do"  
>He takes a deep breath, then blurts it out "I never got it, did I? I just never really got it…"<br>"What do you mean?"  
>"I never understood how badly you wanted to be a father. And I never realized how much I hurt you when I changed my mind about the adoption"<br>I feel myself shrink back as his words strike a painful chord. I never thought it still cut so deep.

There's sadness and regret in his eyes. He can read me like a book.

"We talked it through, Sy, _you_ explained, _I _explained… we agreed, it's okay…."  
>"But it's not, is it?" he sighs "If it was, you wouldn't be feeling the way you do… there wouldn't be that tiny part deep down inside you that… that resents me… for having what you want so much… while I never really did…""I don't resent you, Sy" I protest, but it's like he doesn't hear me.<br>"And if it was okay, I wouldn't be feeling so guilty…"  
>"Don't…."<br>"You see, Christian… it was never about _you_…. When I changed my mind about the adoption, it was never because I doubted you. I knew you'd be an amazing father… And it was never _us_ I doubted either, I never stopped believing in us. And it wasn't even about being gay… not really…" he swallows "It was _me_"

"I never imagined myself as a father. Not even… not even in the time before I came out. Yes… I know, I was going to start a family with Amira… but even that… even that was something I never consciously thought through. It was just… what was expected of me. Live the normal life everyone wanted me to live. And it was a means to an end. A desperate, last minute attempt to dress up the lie that my life was back then… But me, a _dad_? I never saw myself in that role, Christian, I just didn't…

When we started the adoption procedure… even then..." he sighs, shaking his head in regret "You were so enthusiastic, so full of expectation, and I just… I just went along. I'm sorry, Christian, I don't want to sound as if I belittle your feelings, but… in the beginning I didn't take your desire to be a dad seriously. It seemed to come out of nowhere and … I guess there was part of me that thought that it was … one of those things… that you get enthralled about for a while, and then… they just blow over. I just didn't see it. Maybe I didn't _want_ to see it, I don't know… But when the social worker came by and talked us through the whole procedure, the home study stuff and everything… it finally started to dawn on me.. This _was_ serious. We couldn't do this on a whim… It was life changing… And while _I_ started to have doubts, _your_ enthusiasm didn't waver… It suddenly occurred to me, maybe for the first time, that you really wanted to go through with this. And as I realized that, I knew that I was going to let you down again. It was only a matter of time before someone would work out that I wasn't dad material. That, yeah, I was putting on a brave face, but that, deep down, I was clueless. And I got scared, Christian. They were going to find out, about my attempt to take my own life … about trying to … to cure myself from… being gay… And when they knew that, there'd be no chance in hell they would approve us as potential parents. They were going to turn us down, turn _you_ down… and it would be my fault… I would be the one again who took your dream away from you. How could I do that to you? Again? After everything I had already put you through?"

He suddenly runs out of steam. With a sigh he leans back against the cushions, and rubs his hands over his face, as if he's trying to wipe away the thoughts and the words that are pouring out of him. I'm too stunned to say anything. I never realized this was how he felt… I want to comfort him, but I don't know how.

"I was so scared of letting you down, Christian, that the only thing I could think of doing was… was _letting you down_! There just didn't seem to be any other way. If I put an end to it, there and then, it would be hard, yeah, but we'd get over it, wouldn't we? It was stupid… I know I should have talked to you. Tell you how scared I was… But it never occurred to me, not for a second, that I could lose you over it. I thought it would just blow over… and then… in a way it did…  
>I was so relieved when we agreed to wait, to take it slow. Not a word of what I said to you then was a lie. I wanted it. I really did. You gave me the confidence. I knew I could do this if you were by my side. <em>Only<em> if you were by my side. But somehow… "  
>He sighs. "But somewhere, deep down… there was still that fear… that sad and ugly truth I couldn't even admit to you… That maybe, I'm simply not cut out to be a father. That I'm terrified to get it wrong, to mess it up… like I mess up <em>everything<em> …."

"Sy, baby.. please… you won't…!" I try to interrupt him. How can he possibly think he's not a good dad? Even from a distance, it's so plain to see. All that love, that natural understanding, that easy bond between them…

But he doesn't hear me.

"I was all about _me_, Christian, and I forgot about you in the process. And I'm so sorry. No matter how much I told myself it was about sparing _your_ feelings, it really was only about _my_ fears. About _my_ insecurities. It's still there, that fear. Even now, with Yasmin being here… The thought of being a father… it still scares the living daylights out of me…"

He puts his face in his hands, and sighs.

"You see" he says sadly "I'm doing it again. Making it about _me_. This conversation was about _you_, about your feelings, and again, I turn it around and make it all about me…"  
>"I doesn't matter" I reassure him "it's about us, Sy. We need this. I want you to tell me how you feel. I want to know all of it…"<br>"I…" he hesitates. I know there's more he needs to say. But he bites his lip and shakes his head.  
>"Tell me, babe" I whisper, squeezing his hand tightly in mine. "Tell me everything"<p>

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"When Amira came back and told me I was a father, the first thing that came to mind wasn't joy, Christian, it was fear…." He almost chokes on the words. "Me, a dad? How? The one thing that kept going round and round in my head was: I can't do this, I really can't do this. And then you... you asked me to choose. I wasn't even angry… I was relieved! Choosing you was self-evident, I had no intention of going back on that promise. … I chose you, naturally, without hesitation, because _you_ were, you _are__,_ the one complete certainty in my life… But it also bought me time. Time to figure out what on earth I was going to do, how I could deal with it… It's not that I didn't want her in my life, of course I did, but… it was so confusing … And I never meant to lie to you, Christian, to see her behind your back..."

He sighs as he struggles to find the words.

"You were asleep and I was so restless… I didn't know what to do with myself. For some reason I looked out of the window, and there she was. Amira, with Yasmin, and they were leaving… getting into a cab and… and … instinct took over. It was as if my feet were leading a life of their own, I just went. I had to. I couldn't stop myself…

When I got there, I could barely bring myself to look at her. I could hardly breathe… And then I finally did… I looked at her and she looked up at me, with those gorgeous trusting eyes and….and…" he swallows desperately "Right there, in that split second, in that instant, Christian… I became a dad…"

Tears are running freely down his beautiful face now. I feel my throat constrict as I watch him, so completely lost in the memory. Joy and fear are fighting for prominence. I reach out to wipe the sadness from his eyes. He leans into my touch, instinctively, and though he speaks to me, it's as if he doesn't even realize I'm there.

"I was a dad... It was the most amazing and the most terrifying feeling ever. And all I wanted, Christian, all I wanted at that moment was share that with you. I wanted you to be there, to tell me it was all going to be okay, that I could do this, that _we_ could do this, _together_, that we'd be fine… All I wanted was run to you, tell you everything… But I couldn't.. I just couldn't.. because I knew how hurt you'd be…"

He finally looks up at me again.

"Of course I saw the irony of it, Christian" he whispers "Why do you think I lied?"

And there it is. The truth, so simple really. I should have known. It's so him. But I was so caught up in my own hurt, my own righteous indignation that I never realized. He lied because he didn't want to hurt me. Sadly, by lying, that's exactly what he did.

Sometimes I want to shake him, that wonderful silly man of mine. I don't want him to be scared of talking to me. I don't want him to hold back because he fears that his words will upset me or cause me pain. I've told him so many times that he can tell me anything. Anything. When he chose me, he told me I was the first person he could be himself with, the first person he didn't have to put on an act with, pretend,… or lie. That confession broke my heart – I cried for the man he was, who never knew someone to confide in – and I swore to him, that as long as he was with me, he'd never ever have to hide anything. Not himself, not his feelings, not his sadness, not his fears.

But it's so engrained in him, that desire to do right by everyone. Constantly trying to keep all the aspects of his life in balance, always juggling sensitivities of those around him, always careful never to offend or hurt – and he does that, stubbornly, determinedly, even at his own expense. All the energy it's costing him, fighting to keep everyone happy, it wears him out. But he'll never stop doing it. He's never known differently, and no matter how much I want to shake it out of him sometimes, I know he will never change.

And I don't _want_ him to change.

Other people would call him a coward, for disguising the truth, avoiding it so as not to cause more upset. That habit of his to try and hide stuff he'd rather not confront frustrates the hell out of me sometimes, but if I stop and think, I know exactly where it comes from. It's that deep-rooted, raw fear he carries inside, the fear of losing the people he loves the most. Four years of living in painful isolation, shunned by his family and community, misunderstood by the people around him, has scarred him almost beyond repair. He'll do anything to make sure he'll never have to go back to that lonely place. And who could blame him?

Watching him now, the regret etched on his face, my heart bleeds for him, and again I make a silent vow. I will make sure Syed is never alone again. I'll always be there for him. _I will. _No matter what.

I reach out and softly let my fingers wander through his tangled hair.  
>"You're a great dad, Sy. You don't have to be afraid"<br>"But I _am"_ he admits. "I _am_ afraid. This is so huge, so important… I mustn't get it wrong…"  
>"You won't!"<br>"How do you _know_?" he asks me. There's a panic in his voice, a desperation that claws at my heart. My poor love, how can he still think so little of himself?  
>"I don't know" I say "but I know <em>you<em>… you're a good man, Sy. You'll know what to do.. and you'll do a fantastic job…."  
>He tentatively looks up at me "Will you help me?"<br>"Of course I will, my love… It's all I've ever wanted. You know that."

He smiles a little at last, grabs my hand in his. "Ever since Yasmin came into my life… I've been having visions of seeing her grow up… being there, being part of it… but never…not once… not even when we … when we were apart, Christian… did I imagine her growing up without _you_ in her life too."

His eyes shine at me with unconcealed honesty. "You're going to be her daddy too, Christian… you really are"

I feel a lump rise in my throat again.  
>"I know it's not the way you imagined it… I know… I know…" he falters, takes a deep breath and starts again, his voice breaking, his eyes averted now. "I know that Yasmin will always remind you… of… of all those mistakes I made, the pain I caused you… the wrong decisions…"<p>

"No" I interrupt him, determinedly "No, Sy…" My hand finds its way under his chin, gently pushing it up, forcing him to look at me again. He still looks away, but I wait patiently until he comes back to me. Our eyes lock again at last. "No" I promise him "Yasmin is not a bad memory, Sy. She never will be. She's a little girl. A beautiful little girl. She's not a reminder of the past…. She's the _future…"_

"Yeah…" His eyes light up. "She is. _Our_ future… " My heart leaps. "Oh Christian… she's going to love you so much. I can just see it… the two of you… two peas in a pod… She's going to adore you!" He hiccups away a sob, or maybe a giggle "Because… you are going to indulge her every whim, aren't you? He pushes me playfully "I can see it now… You will get her all the toys she begs for and the necklaces and the bows for her hair… and when she's older you're going to take her shoe shopping… show her the best places to party… and… and… and when she's got boyfriend trouble…" He blinks, corrects himself "or girlfriend trouble", without even a second thought he says it, and it reminds me again how far he's come. "She's gonna come to you, Christian, because you, you _know_ these things… you'll be there for her.. She'll sob her heart out on your shoulder and you'll sort her out" His smile is wistful. "And me…."

He pauses, sighs, unsure how to explain his own role in Yasmin's life. He bows his head, and his voice suddenly falters "Me, I'm just going to be boring old dad… who makes sure she goes to school and gets her grades and…."

"And keeps her safe" I say. Again I force him to look up at me, determined to make him hear me "And when she has questions, Sy… about things that _really_ matter…" I'm fighting to find the right words "like values… and .. life in general… she's going to come to _you_. Because you… my love… you have been through the wringer a few times, and _you_ _know_ these things…"

His breath catches at that, and his eyes are brimming. My hands are softly holding his face and my thumb catches a lone tear that's escaped. I'm not sure I can say any more because my heart breaks to see him doubt himself so much. Still. Even now. Sometimes, sadly, my beautiful Sy forgets how strong he is. So I need to remind him

"She's going to love you so much, Sy" I repeat his own words, trying to soothe the doubt away "because she will know that you will always be there for her… always, no matter what. You will never allow her to be lonely, or scared, or misunderstood. Or be anything less than what she can be. You're going to encourage her and listen to her and believe in her. And you will never stop telling her that… And she's going to be so….so…" I can hear my own voice break "so bloody proud of you, Sy.

Because you…her _dad_.. he stood up for what he believed in. You gave up everything, to be the person you want to be, to be yourself. That is the best, most valuable lesson a dad can teach his child, Sy. You fought so hard to achieve that, and you did it. You stood up and, in spite of everything.. you chose… you chose to be you. And that is going to make her so, so proud… As proud as I am of you."

With a soft whimper he leans into my embrace. And in that moment I love him so much. I never thought I could love him more than I already do, but when he does this, when he allows me to see his true emotions, when he truly lets go, and shows himself to me as he is, with all his worries and all his doubts, nothing to hide or to conceal, I can only love him more..  
>I bury my face in his hair, inhale the scent of him, soothe his tired limbs, and hold him to me tightly.<p>

"Sometimes, my love" I breathe softly against his skin "sometimes I wish you could just believe in yourself a little bit more…"

I feel the movement of his head against my shoulder. A nod of agreement perhaps? He shifts slightly, pulls back to look at me. Tear stains streak his face, but he's smiling. A hesitant, wistful smile, but a smile nevertheless.

"Yeah" he admits "but I have _you_ for that, don't I?"  
>"You do" I agree "You have me. And I do believe in you, Sy. I always have. Even when I thought I didn't…"<p>

And suddenly it hits me. What we have. What we had. What we nearly lost. I see in his eyes he realizes the same thing, at exactly the same moment.  
>"I'm sorry for losing faith" I breathe.<br>"I'm sorry for letting you down…" he whispers.  
>"I'm sorry…" I falter "for not listening"<br>"I'm sorry for lying"  
>"I'm sorry…" we start at the same time<br>"… for _hurting_ you" our voices echo only a millisecond apart. I don't know who said it first, or if maybe we said it at exactly the same time, but it doesn't matter. Suddenly all that needed to be said has been said….

"I forgive you" We both instinctively giggle, still crying, as our voices again blend together.  
>"I love you" Is it he who says it to me or me saying it to him. I have no idea. All I know is that it echoes in my head and in my heart. As I know it does in his.<p>

Everything is good now. We have each other.  
>We are forgiven.<p>

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_**Thanks for reading. If you want to let me know what you think, even after all this time, a review will be appreciated. Who knows, maybe I've found my way back to FF-land... :)**_


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